


Zemblanity

by starkind



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, DC Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood and Torture, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Implied/Referenced Torture, Inspired By Tumblr, Iron Bat - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Mind Games, One Shot, POV Alternating, Prompt Fic, Psychological Torture, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7557361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkind/pseuds/starkind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zemblanity<br/>(n.) the inevitable discovery of what we would rather not know; the opposite of serendipity</p><p>Something always has to give at some point.<br/>Sometimes it does not take much.<br/>Somehow you still make it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zemblanity

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to hit the trifecta with these following prompts, all rolled into one:
> 
> 1\. Person A and B have been captured by a deranged psychopath, who is aiming to physically torture person A in front of person B. They then propose that if person A can stay quiet for the duration of ten minutes, person B can go free. Can person A do it?
> 
> 2\. Person A fully capable of annihilating every enemy surrounding them with ease. However, they relinquish their weapon and surrender for the safety of Person B, much to B’s horror. 
> 
> 3\. Person A at the complete mercy of your OTP’s greatest enemy. Person B is then commanded to beg for A’s life on their knees. Person A is forced to watch as B obeys

Your bare feet make little pit-patting sounds on the cold kitchen tiles. It is 4:14 in the morning, and you cannot sleep anymore. Outside, the break of dawn is lingering, hidden behind a gray and solid curtain of rain. Its sound is what woke you from your latest nightmare, for which you are glad. As you stand and press your thighs against the lithic windowsill, your mind wanders back.

* * *

He had arrived at the scene to the horrifying picture of his friend being brought to his knees. His armor was missing pieces; pieces like its utility belt, cape, and the barbed gauntlet gloves. The cowl was still in place, however, but his arms had been tied behind his back. Most disturbing of all was the muzzle of a semi-automatic which was sitting in his mouth, held in place by a man he had never seen before.

“Hello there. Glad you could make it.”  
With a small whoosh, the faceplate came up. Tony Stark's countenance was grave.  
“Can't say the feeling is mutual.”  
  
The man bared a set of crooked, bad teeth before he spoke up.  
“I'm afraid I have to ask you to take that whole thing off. For, uh, safety measures. _My_ safety.”  
The psychopath gestured with his free hand up and down his suit. Tony swallowed.

"The suit is useless once I'm not in it."  
A tutting sound.  
"Oh, I'm not interested in wearing your freak show costume, don't worry. I just want to even out the odds here."  
  
Tony locked eyes with his partner; frantic brown on composed hazel which narrowed in silent protest. At the hesitation in Tony's stance, the psychopath cocked the hammer of his gun. It made a strange, dull sound inside Bruce Wayne's mouth. While it did not elicit more than a calm blink of an eye from the person in question, Tony's heart started to pound. With a whirr, the armor came off his body seconds later. 

As he stood there, shivering in his sweat-laced undersuit, their sadistic host nodded in triumph.  
"Atta boy. Much more compliant than this one right here."  
He inched the weapon up, giving his victim no choice but to follow his motions until their eyes met.

"Such a stubborn asshole."  
The psychic monologue culminated in a furious expression.  
"Maybe I should just get it done and over with, huh?"  
  
It was then that Tony cleared his throat and tried to keep his voice neutral.   
“You got what you wanted. Now take away the gun.”  
It prompted a manic-sounding giggle and got him their kidnapper's complete attention again.  
  
“Not in a good position to make demands, are you, hm? Starkie?”  
Still the muzzle did leave Bruce's mouth soon after, and Tony inwardly sagged with relief.  
“What is it that you want? Money?”  
  
The maniac shook his head, looking almost offended at his suggestion.  
“Nah, boring. I want to play a game here. Don't you like games? Everybody likes games.”  
Tony gritted his teeth, not knowing what to reply. The insane man took it as an invite to continue.

“If he,” the psychopath pointed his gun at the temple of the immobile dark knight. “Can stay silent for the upcoming 10 minutes, you're a free man. How's that sound?” When Tony remained silent; too stunned at the perverted proposal, the man turned to his current victim. “See, he doesn't think you can do it. Let me give you a little incentive to try your best.” It was then that Tony found himself staring down the end of the handgun.  
  
“Hands up, iron boy.”  
  
As soon as he had Stark bound and tied up opposite of the Gotham vigilante, their aggressor brandished his weapon around, tallying between the two of them. “What's it gonna be, Batman?” All he received as an answer was a barely detectable nod. Aghast, Tony stared at his lover. “Fuck, no!” No emotion whatsoever shone back at him. The sound of a sword being drawn was what brought them back to the present.

“What a nifty suit you wear. Let's see how it holds up against some good old fashioned steel...” The gleaming sword went down his chest to slice a path down carbon-fiber reinforced Kevlar. And another one. It was the first time Tony saw pain ripple through Bruce's body. Even if the Gothamite clamped his mouth shut, the suit was no match for the sharp blade. Soon enough, skin appeared from underneath, instantly stained with blood.

“Stop it!”  
The blade froze in mid-air.  
“What was that?”

Tony tried to keep his voice steady; tried to keep the rage and the helplessness out of it.  
“I said _STOP IT!”_  
The sword lowered its tip to the ground. Red liquid dripped down to the floor.  
  
“Okay.”  
Simple as that. Baffled, Tony glanced from the battered body of his friend to the freak and back.  
“But then I want you to beg. On your knees. Beg for your life.”

“Like hell I will!”

Tony's jaw cracked as he clenched his teeth and tore against the metal around his wrists. In one swift move, the blade whirled upwards again. It came to rest at the Batman's throat, carving through the hard material of the cowl with too much ease.

“Then beg for his.”  
  
Bruce's dulled eyes found his for the briefest of moments, before he averted his gaze. The psychopath switched his stance to dip the blade under his chin; thereby forcing his head up. “Oh, you will watch this.” Bloodied lips formed a soundless “No”, but then Tony dropped to his knees with a muffled thud. His hands were still bound in front of his body, and he swayed a little on the hard, concrete floor.  
  
“Please.”  
His voice was toneless, and he closed his eyes as the word slipped from his mouth.  
“I can't hear you...”

The singsong voice was followed by a crunching sound and some heavy breathing. Tony jerked back into full awareness. All he saw was dripping crimson. “NO! PLEASE!” The veins on his neck started to strain against sweated skin. A full, sadistic smile stretched out across deranged features.

“Now we're getting somewhere...”

 

When the Avengers eventually fond them, it was Hawkeye who put an arrow through the psychopath's heart in one precise shot. By then, Tony was near catatonic, hunched up on the ground, unseeing. The slashed up figure of the Batman knelt in front of him, barely conscious, surrounded by a puddle of blood. Both were alive, but refused to speak about the incidents leading to their situation, with anybody.

* * *

The sound of an opening door takes you back into the present.  
A shuffle, a limp, and then there are two arms wrapping around you from behind.  
You glimpse down to catch sight of bandaged skin.

“I shouldn't have taken it off. But I saw you there and I just... lost it.”  
Well-known hands hold you steady as you sway lightly in their grip.  
“Come back to bed. It's cold here.”

The voice is hoarse from sleep and medication. You give a quiet snort.  
“Tell me you're alright. That it's gonna be alright.”  
The embrace tightens for a second.

"We'll always be."  
You close your eyes as you feel the kiss in your nape.  
"Yeah."  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> All prompts are taken from and courtesy of http://otpdisaster.tumblr.com - this site gives me life (and so many great opportunity to torture my lovelies)


End file.
